Aching
by Hiparquia
Summary: Two wounded souls meet in the worst of times. Both of them with dark secrets from their past and wounds that won't close. Could this encounter be the start of the healing? [AddxAra Normal Life AU Mention of abuse, self-harm and other triggers].
1. Chapter 1

**So I wanted to try and write a different kind of fanfic, though it will still be kinda dark.**

 **I'll let you know that this fanfic will contain several triggers such as the mention of suicide, self-harm, rape, abuse, depression and things of that sort. So if you're triggered by any of those or similar then I'd advise you to not read this.**

 **Add (MM): 21**

 **Ara (YR): 21**

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There was an old apartment building near one of the main streets of the city. It had just four floors with few and fairly ample apartments, with french windows and a beautiful view to the surrounding parks. Along the same street was a convinience store, a coffee shop and a library among other sorts of small shops that made it a convenient location to live in. A subterranean train station was nearby too. On the last floor of the building were two contiguous apartments that had just been occupied by two college students, who hadn't bumped into each other despite having their moving almost at the same time. It was a quiet building, mostly inhabited by old couples or retired loners.

A young man dressed with a cream like colored sweater and a white dress shirt underneath came out of his apartment on the fourth floor of the building. He fixed the strap of his briefcase bag on his shoulder as he locked the door from the outside. The beats of electronic dance music resonating softly in the quiet corridor from the big headphones. At the same time, a young woman opened the door of the contiguous apartment, with a knitted black sweater that fell from one of her shoulders and simple jeans, a small stack of books in her hands. None of them looked at eachother, both keeping their heads down and gazing to the ground the whole time they shared the space in that narrow corridor. After they were gone the hallway stayed quiet for the rest of the day.

The lighting changed in that white space from a soft yellowish glow to a dark orange with the passing hours. Night came, and then only the young man made it back to the building, locking the door from the inside once he came in. The girl didn't appear until it was morning again, with the same clothes and the same stack of books in her hands. The same crestfallen mien. The boy came out, repeating the procedure of the previous morning. She started to register herself, first calmly and slowly, then frantically. Every pocket in her clothes. He locked his door. She started sobbing uncontrollably, supporting her head against the door.

The young man started walking away after glancing briefly in her direction from the corner of his eye. One, two, three steps before turning around and walking back to the pair of doors. A frown on his face.

"You are crying" he stated the obvious at the lack of ideas for things to say in a situation like that.

She limited herself to look at him for a moment. She decided to ignore the unhelpful comment as she closed her eyes again, letting the tears bath her reddened face.

He sighed. He would much likely regret what he was about to say.

"Why?" he asked, keeping his back straight. Not even attempting to get one step closer.

She kept sobbing and crying, unsuccessfully trying to keep it quiet. Often choking on her own tears. At least a couple of minutes passed with only the sound of her sorrow filling the corridor. He fidgeted impatiently, ready to leave if she were to take any longer to answer.

"I don't have my keys" she replied in a barely understandable way, her words muffled by the copious sobbing.

He raised an eyebrow. That couldn't possibly be a reason to cry, not like that. He sighed again, wanting to leave. But something was bugging him and he couldn't stand it. Falling silent, he limited to watch her cry for a few minutes, unable to think of anything to say.

"I need a shower" she spoke again, muttering with an almost inaudible voice that came out camouflaged by the crying. But he heard, and somehow he understood something. Even if it was impossible for him to know what had made her cry like that, he knew now that it wasn't just the lost keys. As much as he wanted to avoid any kind of contact and stay as far away as possible from this stranger, he wasn't the monster others enjoyed thinking he was. And it bothered him to the point of irritation.

Turning around, he took a couple of steps back to his door and grabbed the keys from his pocket, unlocking the door of his apartment again and holding it open.

"Go take a shower then" he said, he commanded with an angry voice that came out more aggressively than he'd wanted. He could always clean after she was done, he could even use rubber gloves this time. But the look she gave him didn't indicate she'd move any sooner. They were wide open, cloudy by the film of tears that made them shinier, awfully red. But mostly, it was an extremely mistrustful gaze. Yet another sigh escaped his lips. He just wanted to be done with this as soon as possible. "Look, I don't have the entire day to do this. If you want to take a shower so badly, then go ahead. If you don't then I guess you'll stay dirty forever and I'll be going about my own business" he snapped at her impatiently, his hand unconsciously playing with the doorknob.

The girl lowered her gaze for a moment, swallowing what was left of tears inside her throat. He pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index finger, ready to give up on the ridiculous task he had gotten himself into. She finally moved after a few seconds of hesitation, to walk through the door he had opened for her.

"Excuse me" she said, going through the door frame.

"Yeah, yeah" he muttered. "The bathroom is at the end of that corridor, at your right. Don't take too long" he indicated her. He turned around after she had followed his instructions, wanting to leave and finally attend his classes. But he wouldn't be able to lock the door if he left now. He couldn't, he just couldn't.

She started scrubbing, scrubbing and scrubbing. The tempered water fell onto her body; the refreshing sensation of finally washing her skin was somehow relieving. But it wasn't enough. She kept scrubbing furiously, until the skin on her legs started to turn red, until small and multiple red dots appeared. She still felt dirty, no matter how much she tried to rip it off. It was despairing. Pure frustration filled her insides as the temperature of the water and the length of her shower started to flood the small bathroom with steam. He told her not to take long; she had to get out now. But she wasn't ready, she didn't feel ready yet.

When the girl finally forced herself to get out of the shower and get dressed again, she went into the living room. She was received by the morning sun rays filtering through the curtains, the soft light that bathed the room and smoothed every line and every edge, the smell of bitter coffee and recently made toasts flooding every corner. It felt delightful, a soothing sensation and a warm welcome. It was all those things and everything of that nature, to her. His apartment was extremely minimalistic, but it was unbelievably clean and tidy. And even if everything was plain white, from the walls to the furniture, the soft light that managed to enter through the curtains covered everything with amazing warmth. That's how she saw it.

She made it into the kitchen, following the enticing aroma of recently made breakfast. It somehow felt familiar, nostalgic. She found her neighbor there, accommodating slices of bread with melted butter on them neatly over two plates. Two cups of steamy coffee sitting over the kitchen table.

"I'm already late for class, so might as well take a proper breakfast. And you too, seeing that you just came back this morning, and you're already here..." he said, trailing off at the last part as a small grimace twisted his mouth. He set the plates with the toasts over the table and motioned briefly for her to take a sit. She complied obediently. The bread was completely soaked with the liquefied butter. It was such a simple thing to eat yet it looked so delicious and appetizing. It was just like the rest of his apartment; a breakfast made with precision.

They ate in silence, each of them too preoccupied with their own thoughts like to think about something to share. He ate methodically, biting onto the bread in such a way that after a couple of bites it was always leveled to an almost perfect square, sometimes intercalating with sips of coffee. She, on the other hand, couldn't help but finish her slices of bread before anything else, leaving the coffee for last.

"Thank you" she broke the silence with a soft yet firm voice. He had been nice enough to offer her what she needed the most that particular moment, even if his manners were off. She somehow felt good in there. It was a clean place. Pure.

"Just recover your keys" he blurted out before his lips met with the hot cup and the bitter liquid flooded his mouth. He said it like it was so simple. It made her shiver.

"I'll call the person in charge of the building for a new one" she replied, not even wanting to consider the option of recovering the ones she left behind. The last thing she wanted was to ask him for a favor, of all people. She didn't want to go back on her own accord.

The boy just shrugged his shoulders and finished the last gulp of his coffee. He then started to pick up the used dishes to wash them immediately, leaving her to her own musings. He dried them off with a clean cloth and put them back on their place right away. No wonder his apartment was so neatly organized.

"I am Ara" she spoke again, even when she was only facing his back.

"Add" he replied curtly, not even bothering to turn around. "And I need to go to my classes now, so you should leave" he added as he walked out of the kitchen and into the living room to pick up his briefcase bag, his headphones and his laptop. She followed him closely, mustering up all of her courage to make the most selfish request she had ever made. But she couldn't help it, she needed to. Just this time.

"Can I stay some more?" she asked, facing him. Staring directly into his eyes to try and convey the desperation in her request. Staying firm in her position, she didn't avert her eyes for a second, letting him examine her as much as he wanted.

"I have to go".

"I don't care".

"No".

"Please".

"I need to lock the door from outside".

"That's fine".

"Why?".

"Just...please".

She pleaded. And for the second time this morning, he gave up grudgingly. Even if it was beyond his comprehension how she managed to sound so convincing, or when he had became so easy to persuade. It was irritating.

"Fine. But don't touch anything. Just...just sit down somewhere and don't make a mess" he said, pinching the bridge of his nose. Then he left the apartment, and she heard the keys entering the key lock from outside. That was fine.

Just this time she wanted to be somewhere nice.

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 **So, that was the first chapter.**

 **Please leave me your comments and impressions!**


	2. Chapter 2

The warm colors of twilight bathed the living room of the apartment through opened curtains; the last rays of the sun shining in the translucent crystals of the windows, its particles of light floating with the sensation of decay and departure. The sunset had always been a sad moment.

The french door that led to a small balcony had been opened, letting the afternoon breeze and buzzing sounds of the street infiltrate inside the quiet apartment. It felt like listening through cotton; such was the anesthetic atmosphere. Sitting on the tiles and with her back against the railing she enjoyed the contemplation of the world outside. Sometimes she liked to frame the passerby between her fingers and imagine she could put them inside her pocket. When she spotted Add walking back to the building she held him; her index finger for the head and the thumb for the feet. The thought crossed her mind, that she could crush him or save him in her jeans pocket. But she let go, just before he disappeared from her sight.

The sound of keys being put inside the key lock and then the door opening. He walked inside with a red cardboard cup in his hand and a laptop on the other, headphones around his neck and the birefcase bag hanging from his shoulder. It smelt like coffee. She heard the hustle in the living room of him taking off his belongings and accommodating them somewhere, but kept her eyes on the moving figures down the street. The echo of his steps went higher and lower in volume while he walked around the apartment, sorting things out for everything to be in order again.

To him, arrivals were tiring. It was chaos for a few minutes and then the effort of trying to put everything back on its place, to make everything normal again. The bag hung inside the wardrobe, the headphones inside a drawer, the laptop neatly placed at the center of the desk, the keys laying on a small plate placed specifically for them on a table by the door. But coffee helped somehow. Especially when he had to be all day facing the untamable world outside his organized apartment.

He saw her sitting on the floor of the balcony, focused on whatever it was that had caught her attention outside. Her image framed by the flowing curtains. He sighed for the hundredth time that day.

"Did you call?" he asked her curtly after he had taken a sit at the sofa, next to the window. All he wanted was to finish the coffee he had bought on his way back from college, even if it tasted somewhat synthetic.

"Yes. The manager said he'd call me when he came here" she replied with a soft voice that came from the balcony, distantly.

He didn't say anything afterwards. His attention was focused on the cup between his hands and a small stain on the floor next to his feet. Didn't he wipe his shoes enough before going inside? With a frown on his face he stood up to go grab a clean wiper from the kitchen and moisten it on the sink. It didn't take long to erase the stain completly, and he felt satisfied. Relaxed.

As he rinsed out the wiper in the kitchen, he heard light steps approaching from behind.

"Hey, uh...so I wanted to ask you something" he heard her talking. He had the feeling that Ara's voice wasn't as weak as it was that morning. But it could be his imagination. "Do you like sweets?" she asked, and just then he turned around to face her, wiping his wet hands on a clean cloth.

"Why are you asking?" he questioned her back, arching an eyebrow. Even if he had pitied her enough that morning to give a hand, he didn't recall saying anything about that being an open invitation for friendship.

"Because there's a café down the street that's really good. And I thought maybe I'd treat you to some coffee and cake. You know...to thank you for today" she explained with a soft yet stronger voice than before, slightly fidgeting her hands behind her back. She thought it was the least she could do after all the trouble she had caused to her new neighbour. It had been a pathetic spectacle after all. And she was carrying enough money for at least that.

"There's no need for that" he replied curtly, looking at her in the eyes. She had such a pitiful gaze that morning, but now it looked like she had recovered some life. Her eyes were shinnier, though they still carried some strange hint of distress.

"Oh, come on..."

"Just...stop pleading. Jesus" he cut her off, snapping at her somewhat aggressively. "We are not friends. Just go pick up your keys and go back to your own apartment. I have things to do".

Silence. She turned around on her feet and made it back to the door, closing it behind her on her way out. The apartment was empty again, as always. And that's how he thought he liked it.

He went to his room and sat down in front of his desk. Opening his laptop, he started revising the notes for his classes.

Soon the orange tones of twilight started to fade away behind the dark mantle of night. The lights of the corridor turned on and illuminated the white space with a dim, yellowish light. After the girl returned to her apartment with her new keys, no more movement could be seen in the building until close to midnight. That was when the echo of strong and heavy steps resonated through the entire fourth floor. A man appeared on the scene. Tanned, tall and muscular. Imposing. The robust man knocked on the door in front of him strongly, almost as if he wanted to knock it down with his fists.

The next time the young man from the contiguous apartment came out, he carried with him a black plastic bag to dispose of the trash on its proper compartment on the corridor. He threw it away quickly, with disgust on his face. He noticed the people next to his door before coming back inside. His new neighbour, Ara, was being cornered against the door to her apartment by a big man with his hands all over her. They were kissing, and her hands on his chest were turned into fists.

He locked the door from the inside.

* * *

 **And that's it.**

 **Hope you enjoyed! Don't forget to comment!**


	3. Chapter 3

Add locked the door from the outside early in the morning, carrying everything he needed for the first class of the day. As he faced his apartment's door the same robust man from last night passed by him in the direction to the staircase. He briefly glanced at him from the corner of his eye, taking mental notes as he stuffed the keys back into his pocket. He would have expected Ara to see him off by the door, as he presumed lovers used to do in situations like that one. But it was none of his business at the end. So he left, distracting himself with the loud beats of the music on his headphones.

The remaining hours of that morning the corridor in the fourth floor stayed empty. Add had gone out to college and Ara hadn't left her apartment since last night, no movement could be heard coming from inside. Until around noon an old man appeared wandering across the narrow hallway. He was around his fifties; a partially bald head, bony body and an oblong and narrow face with sagging skin that looked like it was melting off his skull. But what was most predominant about him was the evident dirtiness. His pale skin was covered and darkened by blackish stains of accumulated dirt in an unwashed body; the smell that he radiated flooded the corridor with a nauseating aroma of sweat, old food and rancid beer. He walked from side to side, looking at each door with a caricatural expression of confusion that made his jaw stick out slightly. That was until Add came back to find him standing in front of his door. The composure his way of walking had been showing until that point turned into a stiffened body and shaking hands; his eyebrows furrowed and the slight twist of his mouth that came from biting its interior.

"Uncle? What are you doing here?" he questioned with a tone that wanted to be prideful and firm, yet the shakiness of his voice gave away the uneasiness that travelled through his body. He pressed the keys firmly inside his fist.

"You didn't invite me to see your new apartment, so I came to visit my dear nephew" the man smiled with crooked teeth and a stinky breath. Add felt compelled to take a few steps back as the bloodshot eyes of his uncle fixated in his, the unmistakable mark of that drunken old man.

"I didn't think you'd want to come visit" he replied, struggling to maintain the composed act.

"Of course I wanted to. I want to see what makes you think you're better than us" he smiled again the same cunning way, getting closer to his young relative the same amount of steps he took back.

Add wrinkled his nose at the nasty odor that was being pushed against his face; sudden urges to throw up taking over his stomach and throat. But he knew better than to say anything about it or even trying to get away. He'd have to endure through this; the quicker the better. So he unlocked the door to his apartment and held it open for the man to go inside; quietly, stoically. He didn't waste a second to walk in, throwing a comment about how he was as quiet as always that Add didn't pay attention to. As he feared, as soon as his uncle walked in he started putting his dirty hands on everything he saw. His shoes were leaving stains on the white tiles of the floor as he walked, his fingers ran through and touched every surface, every object he had laying around in the living room. He could feel his pulse accelerating to an alarming rate, his hands were shaking.

"This is not a real house" the man sneered spitefully, his hands on his waist, standing in the middle of the room as he scrutinized every corner of it with his small eyes.

"That's because it's an apartment" he dared to say, doing his best to stay impassive yet with a vicious tone hiding on his voice.

"Well, that's what I'm saying! You can't call yourself a man if you live in a boring doll house. This is like a box! A white box! And you clean it?" he started shouting, waving his arms up and down as he spoke. "Are you a cleaning lady now?" he kept pushing and pushing. He knew he wanted to get on his nerves, but he wouldn't let him see those shaky hands or the panic that was starting to build up on his stomach. He wouldn't give him that pleasure.

"I am not a pig, like you" he said, struggling to keep his voice serene, to not give away anything.

"Oh, so you're finally showing your true colors? You always thought yourself better than this family" he insisted, unable to contain the satisfied smile that twisted his mouth.

"Family? You mean you and your wife?" he replied stoically, bracing himself for the proximity at which the old man was now, quickly walking towards him with a threatening demeanor, staying firm in his position.

"I mean the family that raised you, ungrateful bastard" he told him angrily, pressing his index finger on Add's chest as he looked at him closely, rage on his eyes. He saw the drops of saliva coming out of his mouth. God, no.

"You should leave".

"But you think you're the real shit just because you were given a scholarship to go to college…".

"Get out".

"…and because the little genius found a job to save up his money without sharing it with anyone…".

"Now".

"…so you could buy yourself a shitty apartment in the city…".

"Shut up".

"…and get away from all of us. But I've got news for you. You're no better than us" he said before spitting on his face. Add wiped out the disgusting saliva from his face, his stomach pulsing inside with the need to vomit, as the man closed the door of the apartment from outside.

As soon as he heard the door closing he took his sweater off and threw it on the ground, as well as the shirt of which sleeve he had used to clean himself. His vision became blurry and the trembling of his limbs was uncontrollable to the point where he had to kneel on the ground because he could no longer remain standing. The beating of his heart was so painfully fast he bent over himself, grabbing his head with hands that itched, urging to rip out every single one of the hairs in his scalp. He felt like a thousand ants were crawling on his body, getting under his clothes and pinching his skin. He could even feel every single one of his nails and teeth pulsating and pressing on his flesh, wanting to be ripped off. Disgusting, it was disgusting.

No one came out from the apartments in the fourth floor for the rest of that week.

* * *

 **nanashimai: Maybe because you weren't following me as an author until this fic was published? And yeah, both of them will need that a lot.**

 **I'm really really happy that you like this one too!**

 **Hamornia: I'm really glad that you like it 3!**

 **Ace the Card Mage: That's because there isn't really anything worth putting under the M rating just yet. I'll just change it when it's needed.**

 **And err...I wouldn't really call it accidental. It's no accident. And yeah...maybe. I guess you'll come to understand as the story progresses?**

 **Guest (who could have at least written a nickname? ;-;): I'm glad you like it3**

 **And of course, I hope you enjoyed this chapter as well! Don't forget to review if you're liking it so far~**

 **Until next time!**


	4. Chapter 4

The loud noise of rabid knocking at one of the doors in the fourth floor echoed on the corridor. It was strong and persistent, even when there was no answer coming from the inside of the apartment, he kept knocking and knocking like he wanted to demolish the door. It was early in the morning and extremely loud. So much that the young man of the contiguous apartment poked his head through the partially opened door to see what was happening. Half-closed eyes framed by a deep frown that wrinkled his forehead slightly, and long, messy hair falling on his face and onto his shoulders. He had to take a few seconds to adjust his vision to the bright corridor and shake off some of the drowsiness that still tried to pull him back to the bed. But it had been impossible to keep sleeping with that brute knocking wildly on the door and making a fuss. He'd think Ara would have woken up already and opened the door, since it was her apartment where this man wanted to enter and it was impossible to not wake up from that kind of noise. But it had been going on for several minutes now and no sign of anyone wanting to open the door for him. It seemed to be the same man from the other week, if he remembered correctly. Maybe they had fought and she was mad at him? or maybe she broke up with him and he was desperate for another chance. Either way, it had to stop or he would be irritable for the rest of the day.

"Quit it already" he said with a hoarse voice that came out almost painfuly. The first words of the day and they were struggling to go through his dry throat, coming out like a groan.

The man just turned his head to glance at him for a brief moment, before continuing with the task he had apparently chosen for the day. Annoying anyone who were trying to sleep.

"Seriously, if she hasn't opened the door by now she probably won't in a long while, so maybe come back at a more appropriate hour" he insisted, getting progressively more irritated by the second. The sound of the man's fists against the door were starting to make his head feel like shaking.

"Why don't you mind your own business?" he spoke finally, his voice deep and loud.

"It IS my business if you're causing such a ruckus. Go away and come back when there's not people trying to sleep" he pressed, getting madder.

The man took a moment to just glare at him like wanting to throw daggers out of his eyes.

"Tell your neighbour that she can't be hiding forever" he told him, walking away and towards the staircase while the last words were still being pronounced. Add just sighed, watching him go away with relief and annoyance mixed together.

Just then, the door next to his opened slowly, revealing half of Ara's body poking out to scan the corridor. She let out an exhale of alleviation. He looked in her direction and their eyes met, she went out a little more.

"Good morning" she said with a barely noticeable smile that didn't match the feelings shown in her eyes. It looked dishonest. None of them had gone out of their apartments for that entire week, and her face looked even more tired than he remembered. She had subtle bags under her eyes and their natural shine had completly disappeared, like she had spent years locked inside her residence to only come back like an older, greyer version of herself. But he wasn't going to meddle on whatever reason it was that made her look so decayed.

"Your boyfriend said that you can't hide forever. Whatever it is that's happening between you two, just make sure it doesn't meddle with other people's lives" he replied curtly, irritation and sleepiness still showing on his husky voice. He had been left with a clear message and didn't want to get into other people's lives any further, it was enough already with what he carried everyday himself. He closed the door without waiting for an answer, and the sound of if being locked from the inside echoed in the silent corridor.

Ara stayed with half body outside for a few more seconds, processing what her neighbour had just said with a bitter feeling in her guts starting to grow more and more like a sickness that wanted to infest her whole body. That was a threat, there was no doubt about that. But what made her stomach wrench with even more disgust was the fact that he had called that man her boyfriend. As if she had any kind of affection for him. It physically hurted to even think about that idea being spit on her face just like that, it made her wanting to throw up and she nearly had to bend over herself and cover her mouth to retain the gagging that was convulsing in her throat. How did he dare to even associate her romantically with that scum; she was shaking with anger and indignation, every inch of her body aching to the sole idea.

Acting solely on the impulse of the rage and nausea she knocked strongly on Add's door. Frowning, pursing her lips with a trembling jaw out of pure anger, a visceral emotion that invaded her body with unusual strength. She was going to show him his mistake, she was going to clean, somehow, what had been said to stain her. He'll see. Add opened the door, muttering a groggy "what?" right before her hand slapped across his face with such momentum it forced him to turn his head. It itched, it burned.

"Asshole" she muttered angrily, her voice lingering in the air even after she had slammed the door shut when going back to her own apartment, filling the atmosphere with spitefulness. He imitated her right after, cursing under his breath while locking the door with one hand trying to aleviate the pain on his cheek.

The sounds of several objects being thrown and knocked over inside Ara's apartment resonated in the hallway along with the distressed and furious shoutings. The door trembled with the continuous impacts it received. It was chaos inside, and it didn't stop until at least an hour had passed. Maybe because the guards of the building called to warn her about disturbing noises. The inside of her apartment was a complete mess. It was dark; the thick curtains were shut, not letting in a single ray of the morning sun. The sofa, armchairs, the coffee table, clothes. Everything had been knocked over and thrown on the floor, there was almost no space to walk around with multiple pieces of furniture covering the ground.

Red, humid marks showed the trails on her cheeks where hot tears had left their scars. Her face was intensely reddened by the rage, the crying and the effort of letting out rippening shouts of hysteria and desperation. Her entire body felt weak, preventing her from staying on her feet for longer. Her chest was moving quickly to the rythm of an accelerated pulse and the agitated breathing that had her near a collapse. She felt hot and tired, anger burning inside her stomach as she lay on the floor along with all of her belongings. Placing her hands between her thighs she felt the heat and stinging that wouldn't leave her at peace, feeling hot tears accumulating on her throat once again.

Add moved restlessly on his bed, unable to go back to the relaxed state in which he could fall asleep again and recover the rest that agitated morning had taken away from him. His left cheek still burned, small dots inside his skin tickled him and itched, the sensation of the slap refusing to go away. That damn couple; they couldn't have made it any harder for him to be at peace even if they tried. Luckily, he didn't have any classes thay day, so he had planned to recover the sleep he couldn't attain the entire week. It wasn't even his fault; all he did was pass a message that had been given to him, and ask her to avoid disturbing situations. What did he say or do to deserve that? There wasn't anyone as distant to other people's problems as him, so why was he getting in the middle of that conflict.

Trying to sleep again was proving to be impossible, so he got out of bed to start his mourning routine. Cleaning himself, then cleaning the house and have breakfast. What truly was a mysteri was what he was going to do for the rest of the day. He had already studied enough to his standards, and he didn't really need that study in the first place. College was as easy to him as it could be. He didn't have any friends to call or to go visit, nor did he need to buy anything. So once he had showered, organized the apartment and taken his breakfast, what now?

That's when he heard the loud noises that were coming from his neighbour's apartment through the shared wall of his living room. He heard shouting, muffled by the distance and the walls that separated them. Pinching the bridge of his nose he deeply regretted choosing this particular apartment to live in. He knew there was no one but that girl inside, so why was she shouting to herself like a crazy person. One thing was for sure. Whatever it was, he didn't want to have anything to do with it, although he had been unexplicably tangled inside this whole situation from the beginning, much to his misfortune.

In the abscense of something to do he sat down at his desk and turned on his laptop. Going through the internet sometimes proved to be entertaining enough to pass the time when nothing else was there to be done. His routine usually involved reading about the latest scientific discoveries, advances or inventions and checking the social media where he didn't talk to anyone. He spent several hours searching for science news and documents and the morning went by, making the colors in his rooms more intense with the change of lighting. It entertained him for a long while until there was nothing that interested him enough to bother reading. That was when he logged into his blog and saw the notification of a new message. Weird, he hadn't been talking with anyone.

It was an anonymous message containing a link. Skeptical, yet curious he clicked on it and saw that it led to a porn page; a rather suspicious looking one. The video to which the link was directed loaded, showing a footage that seemed to be recorded with a low quality camera, probably a webcam. You could see the stomach of a tan-skinned man covering the frame for a few seconds, presumably setting up the webcam, and then his back as he walked away towards a bed that was just in front whatever it was that was used to record. There in the bed was laying a naked girl, seemingly unaware of the recording. It looked like the filming wasn't of mutual consent. Disgusted, he was about to close the page when the realization struck him.

He recognized that girl.

* * *

 **Ew.**

 **Ace the Card Mage: Uh yeah, he IS a despicable man.**

 **EternaPhoenix: She'll be alright ;-; (maybe). Glad you like it!**

 **Hope you enjoyed! Don't forget to leave a comment~**

 **Until next time.**


	5. Chapter 5

"So, did you like it?".

The encounter of that morning had left him with a single phrase going around his head over and over for the rest of day. He had gone out of his apartment for just a minute to take the trash out and of course he had to encounter that unpleasing man. Apparently, he had came again to pick Ara up, judging by the sounds of their steps in the corridor after he had gone back to his apartment. But what he said left one thing very clear; he had been the one responsible for sending him the link to that awful home-made video, and presumably the one in it, too. When that cunning smile came to his mind he felt something very close to disgust.

The issue wasn't leaving his mind, as much as he told himself he didn't want to get involved in any of that, as much as he didn't care about his neighbor. There was something off about what had been happening; that distressed face she had in the video was stuck in his head, how unwilling she looked. And if he remembered the events of the past days, how she had cried for a shower the first day he met her, the shouting that came from her apartment and her refusal to open the door for that man the other day, everything seemed to click somehow. But he couldn't really do anything about it. He didn't have any kind of proof other than the video that could be easily associated with the same sort of recordings that flooded every porn site on the internet. And it wasn't like he could just go and talk to her about it. Heck, he didn't even want to, he didn't even know if what he was thinking was actually true.

So what to do? He tapped his fingers on the kitchen table anxiously, a cup of coffee steaming a bitter aroma. It was his third cup of coffee in the course of an hour and its effects were slowly starting to show. He had spent the entire day thinking about all the things that just wouldn't stop circling around in his mind and it had him irritated and exasperated equally. He really wanted to avoid getting involved in that mess, but what was wrong was wrong. When that resolution took over his thoughts, he heard it.

Light steps were heard slowly approaching the couple of doors in the corridor and he took the chance. Ara was half way into opening the door to her apartment when he appeared outside and fixed his eyes on her. She stopped in her tracks for a second, turning her head slightly to glance at him from the corner of her eyes. She was extremely pale, and he could tell that her hands were shaking.

"Hey, I accept" he said merely, knowing she was really close to disappear inside and him to lose the chance to talk to her for who knows how long.

"What?" she replied, half of her body inside the apartment.

"Your invitation. You said you wanted to invite me to coffee, for helping you" he adventured, even if it had been at least a week ago it was the only thing he could think of to retain her. It was clear that she was looking at him full of mistrust.

He waited for a moment in which there was nothing but silence. She was glancing at him with suspicion and hesitation showing all over her face, as if she were studying his motives for such a sudden proposition.

"I want to talk to you about something. It's a public place, so you'll be safe. Right?" he pressed even further, knowing she'd be wary of his intentions. The only thing he could do was to go for the chance that she'd feel less threatened in a place with more people around her.

She moved back slowly, eyes scanning the man standing next to her with caution.

"Okay" was the only word she gave to him in exchange for his effort while closing and locking the door to her apartment.

"You invite" he said as he started walking towards the staircase, the set of steps behind him indicating that his attempt had been a success. Now he just had to think in what to say.

Both of them ordered a piece of cake and a cup of coffee to make more pleasant the dense conversation that was about to happen. There was an evident heaviness on the air that surrounded them in that small table next to the window, so much that it was getting hard to breath with ease. Her heart was beating wildly inside her chest, the anxiousness taking over her as thousands of ideas crossed her mind, wondering what he could want to talk about with her. She had been in his apartment before, and nothing bad had happened. That, plus the fact that they were in the middle of a very crowded place reassured her about her safety. Someone with ill intentions wouldn't choose a public place to perpetuate them in front of a big group of witnesses, right? She stared at him in the eyes, waiting for him to take the next step.

"I saw a video of you" he stated with an impassive expression. Her heart sunk, weighting heavily inside.

"What video?" she dared to ask, knowing very well that she wasn't going to like the answer. It couldn't be. She refused to believe such idea was true, that it had actually happened. But what else could it be? What other kinds of videos could be there showcasing her? She didn't have any friends in college; she barely even went out of her apartment. The only thing she did besides going to class was meeting up with him, so what else could it be? The thoughts rushed inside her mind, almost making her nauseous.

"So you didn't know" he started, sipping his coffee. "A video of you having sex with the man that comes to the building" the cup made a clinking sound when it was left on its small plate.

Everything around her seemed to be falling apart vertiginously fast and her heart got stuck in her throat. She started to tremble noticeably, her hands unable to keep holding the fork. How humiliating. Wasn't it enough already? Enough damage? What else could he do? She was having trouble assimilating what he had just said, yet it was so easy to believe that he'd do something like that. Her skin started to itch and something burnt inside her stomach. She wanted to throw up.

"How…how do you know?" she asked naively, not really knowing what to say at that point.

"He sent it to me" he replied curtly. Of course he'd do that. Of course he'd want to damage her in any possible way; humiliation was just one of them. She was so sick of it. His awful face came to her mind and it only made her boil with vicious emotions. He started speaking again. "Look, I just wanted to ask you one thing".

She looked up to meet his eyes that stared at her piercingly, but she couldn't hold it. She couldn't look him in the eye just like that; so dirty, so miserable and despicable. How could she hold anyone's gaze with pride when her body and her soul were so stained, so filthy? He sighed profusely before his voice resounded inside her head again.

"Did he force you?".

Not being able to hold it anymore she let out everything that had been oppressing her in streams of tears that now wouldn't stop showering her reddened face. She felt so utterly ashamed and degraded, so humiliated and vexed that she couldn't even stand herself anymore. Her body was trembling uncontrollably now and her shoulders shook up and down with the rhythm of her desperate crying, whimpering and mewling. Her hands covering her face in shame, hiccup shaking her and making her chest hurt even more. Everyone in the café turned to look at her but she just couldn't stop, no matter how embarrassed she felt. She felt like her body was going to melt in sorrow under the intensity of the emotions that were overflowing out of her.

She nodded her head weakly, and he asked a waitress for a glass of water.

* * *

 **Weismann Karlstein: You were right!**

 **Rinku-dono: Just yet another horrible person x(**

 **EternaPhoenix: I'm glad that at least you like the fic, even though everything is so terrible ;-;**

 **Hope you enjoyed! Don't forget to leave a comment~**

 **Until next time.**


	6. Chapter 6

The ochre colouring the setting sun spread on that afternoon sky was leaking through the windows. He liked how the apartment looked when it was engulfed by colorful lighting. It made the immaculate white walls look like a canvas ready to receive the beauty of the outside world. Unlike himself.

In the sofa next to him was the sobbing girl, quietly choking on the tears she struggled to hold back, probably due to self-consciousness. The orange glimmer of her skin almost made her look like part of the room, if it weren't for the subtle trembling that separated her from the inanimated objects. He didn't know what to do; even after they left the cafe in a hurry to escape from the inquisitive stares of the other customers, she wouldn't calm down. He thought that maybe by the time they made it back to the building she would have been back in shape, but he was obviously wrong. It was clear to him that he didn't know nor was he empathetic enough to understand what she was going through, so maybe expecting her to calm down that quickly was a selfish thing to want.

What was he supposed to do? Shove her inside her own apartment and leave a broken girl to her own suffering like it was no big deal? Even he knew that would be just too cruel, especially because he had caused the outburst. Just why did he think that asking her about it directly was an okay idea; he clearly didn't know how to handle it. But what was done was done.

He had suggested she went to the police, that she informed the proper authorities of what he had done, but she refused profusely. She said that she couldn't, that it was impossible. That was something Add couldn't understand, even though he decided it was best not to pressure her into anything. What reason could there be to not accuse him? to not wanting him punished? He wouldn't be able to do anything to her ever again if she decided to talk to someone.

He was sitting stiff with his back perfectly straight, not even daring to touch the backrest, wondering why. Cursing himself silently for getting so deeply involved in that turbulent situation for which he didn't have any solution, no rational way of solving it without pushing too far into something he didn't understand. But there was one thing he knew well enough, and that was the fear that must have been invading her; that terrible sensation of impotence he was so familiar with. And because of that he also knew that nothing he could say would make it better.

She stood up slowly, wipping away the tears that burnt her skin. Looking down, she put her hands inside the pockets of her jeans and started searching for something inside, pulling out a small amount of money before handing it to him.

"I'm sorry for making you pay for everything. Here's my part," she said with a voice that gave away the effort of containing herself from completely breaking down. He forced himself to accept it.

"Are you alright?" he asked calmly, not even knowing himself if it was out of pure protocole or genuine concerne. That wasn't something he was going to ask himself anyway. To that she managed to pull off a faint smile that was surely intended to be reassuring, even if it didn't accomplish its purpose.

"No. But I will, don't worry," she had said with a thread of voice before leaving his apartment and closing the door behind her. Of course he didn't believe her, there was no way that could be true. She wasn't going to be okay. But he let out a deep sigh of compressed tension nontheless, when the door made that clicking sound.

During the rest of that week he saw many familiar things. The man had appeared a couple more times to knock loudly on her door as he used to do. Sometimes he had heard the contiguous door opening, others it would be just the persistent noise of his fists calling out for her attention over and over again without any response. A few times he encountered her in the hallway, where she forced that signature unhappy smile, so unsettling.

In the meantime he carried on with his own life; attending college, studying for college, taking a break from college in the quietness of his apartment. Text messages made his cellphone vibrate and his nose squint from time to time, and then there was the usual nausea and shudders. One of those days the man had knocked on Ara's door especially loudly. The noise had been going for several minutes and it was only increasing in intensity by the second, to the point where he could swear the guy was actually kicking it. Then the shouting started.

"Open the door, you slut! You don't want to provoke me!" he kept shouting, insisting on the same words over and over until the noise that came out of his violent smashing made it seem like the door was about to get knocked over.

It was late at night and all that ruckus had woken Add up, and it was probably the irritation more than the loud sounds themselves what stopped him from falling asleep again. It was increasing as fast as that vicious voice volume inside of his head, and he was really close to making it out of the apartment out of pure rage when the door next to his opened and it was the whimpering taking over the sudden silence. Bile ran up his throat.

Without thinking, he grabbed the phone that communicated the apartment with the guards office and waited for the man with the night shift to pick up. When the grumpy voice answered his calling he found himself at a loss of words, uncertain of how to explain the situation to the oblivious man on the first floor of the building.

After the voice had insisted a couple of times for him to say something, he finally managed to blurt out what he wanted to say. He assumed the best way to approach it was to explain it as a violent attempt to break into his neighbor's apartment with intimidation, that it was too late at night to be causing so much trouble and that he suspected that the girl next door was in some sort of danger, he feared, judging by the way that man was conducting himself in front of another person's residence.

What the guard answered him left him frozen on the spot, filled with a cold confusion and the threat of anger building up inside his stomach.

"Breaking into the apartment? That man is the owner," was what the old man had said.

Add let the phone slip from his hand.

* * *

 **Nightly: You see, I speak spanish, so at first I was kinda confused about your review because that's not the way I see stuff written in my language. I thought 'why would punctuation be different between languages, if it has the same function in all of them?', so I did my research and turns out...it is different. I am actually really surprised and shocked, lol. I'll do my best to write it the proper way, though I'm afraid it may take some time for me to get used to it. So please bear with me! And thanks for your correction! I really really appreciate it.**

 **Xeed Alter: Thank you! I'm really glad you like them. Actually, the fact that there's so little of this pairing in the fandom kinda motivated me to start writting for them myself.**

 **nanashimai: He does what he can ;_; and yeah, more light is gonna be thrown over his past in the future!**

 **Weismann Karlstein: Maybe, maybe some day...**

 **EternaPhoenix: Yes, please, do cut him!**

 **So that's all for this chapter.**

 **Hope you enjoyed!**


	7. Chapter 7

Violent shouting, desperate screaming, the loud sound of heavy objects being knocked over trespassed the shared wall to invade his apartment with a dramatic feeling of impotence and a familiar sting on his chest. It was at this point grim remembrance, just that he didn't know how far those memories went into the past, or if they were just the usual image of recent events. What Add did know very well was that there was an awful sensation oppressing his lungs and it wouldn't go away no matter how much he tried to convince himself that it was all a matter of controlling his emotions with reason. Truth was, he wasn't even able to put his finger on what exactly was that was causing all of those emotions from the day reality had opened in front of his eyes. It all felt too disgustingly familiar.

The receiver of the apartment phone was still hanging from its cord with the subtle and repetitive sound of the open line marking the rhythm of the unsettling ambience. It was obvious that this situation was far more complicated than just a sick man doing sick things to an innocent girl out of pure sickness, and he didn't feel prepared to discover any truth beyond that vision. But it didn't suffice with just erasing his surroundings and pretend that nothing bad was happening right next to him. Sitting on the couch slightly curved over himself he supported his elbows on the knees and covered his eyes with intertwined fingers, not daring to move under the constricting air that had taken over the place.

The loud sounds stopped abruptly, and the next thing he heard was the contiguous door opening and slamming shut once again, then heavy footsteps on the hallway. Anything that quietness could have had of calming before had now been replaced with the certainty of a tragedy, the same way that silence would never be reassuring ever again. And how could it be if even after everything had ended the echo of that screaming and whimpering was still lingering in the air. Then, the sound of a message popping up from his blog page that was still open on his laptop.

With a cold shiver running down his spine he stood up heavily and made his way back to the bedroom, where the bright screen lighted up the otherwise dark room. Dragging his feet, he fixated on the room ahead of him, giving away the presumption of something terrible waiting for him, just that visceral knowledge that made his way to the bedroom feel like an eternity. He clicked on the notification with a hand covered in cold sweat.

The first thing that appeared on the screen was a picture, showing the figure he already knew was going to be there. She had her slim arms supported weakly on the edge of the bed with her head resting on them, the rest of her body sitting on the floor messily, like it had been thrown against it and that was just the position it fell in. With only underwear on her, the purple and black bruises, the red lines of cuts and spilled blood covering her skin all over were perfectly visible. Under the photo was a message that read "Had a fun night" with a smiley face next to it. It only made the bile rush up his throat. But the thing that disgusted him the most was the fact that her eyes were showing nothing more than a blank expression, the pure epitome of bitter acceptance.

Leaving the laptop as it was, he made it to the apartment next to his in the verge of throwing up, loud palpitations bumping inside his ears and making his brain feel like it was throbbing. He felt agitated, but it wasn't fear. It was something closer to impotence, the acknowledgment of a repeating cycle that wouldn't stop going around, the feeling that there was something he had been unable to stop a hundred times. With those sensations piling up inside his stomach he knocked on the door he had in front of him, only then realizing that it had been left opened. And of course he had done that on purpose.

Add pushed the door softly and was received by a dense darkness, the light bulb on the ceiling only gave out a faint yellowish light when he turned on the switch, but it was visible enough for him to see the disaster the living room had been made into. A couple of big furniture pieces had been knocked over and there were shards of glass and white porcelain covering the floor, some of them with traces of blood on their sharp edges. He advanced through the narrow corridor that connected to the bedroom, careful to not step on the pieces.

Dim light emerged from the only bedroom in the apartment. He saw the wardrobe knocked over and her clothes sprawled all over the floor, the bed sheets torn up and messy, falling over one of the sides of the bed, covered in small circles of blood and white liquid, with brownish and yellowish stains that were obviously old and already dry. The room exuded a disgusting smell of sweat, metal and something else that almost made him gag. He looked at her laying against the edge of the bed in the same position he had seen her on in the picture, her body moving slowly with the rhythm of her weak breathing. Big bruises covered her pale skin in every possible spot, while the parts of her skin that didn't have those dark figures were covered with a white liquid that ran down her body in multiple places. Her feet had several cuts and on her cheeks were the traces of tears that had already dried, her lips were swollen and there was a thin thread of blood coming out of her nose.

Something unpleasing started to form inside his stomach, rushing up through his throat until he had to run to the bathroom connected to the room and empty his body of the disgust inside the toilet. He threw up until there was nothing more than saliva coming out of his mouth even though his throat was still throbbing. His body was shaking almost uncontrollably, cold shivers making his limbs tremble and filling him with terrible flashbacks. That blank expression she wore on her face was something he knew all too well, the sight of her condition didn't cause pity or compassion, but an awful sensation of rage and a sharp pain that cut across his chest.

Going back to the bedroom and seeing her again only made the sting become more painful. Add kneeled down next to her, brushing the hair off her face to see that she was awake and conscious, still breathing even if weakly. Taking his phone out his pocket he pressed the numbers to call the emergency line, but the soft touch of another hand moved it away from his face.

"Don't" she said merely, a thread of a husky voice coming out painfully out of her mouth. On the other side of the line there was a voice repeatedly asking what was wrong. "Please" she insisted, her hand looking for the cell phone to cancel the call. But it wasn't necessary; the voice on the other side spoke angrily about something related to pranks and the lines being too busy before hanging out and leaving the tone of the open line lingering in the air.

He hadn't dared to move, even when her movements were ever so soft and delicate that they wouldn't have been able to stop him if his determination would have taken over. But there was something in her voice that told him it was best not to contradict her. Maybe because he was convinced that he would never be able to completely understand the way she felt, and thus she was the only one who had the right to speak out. But it felt bad nonetheless, it felt wrong. He would have to think of something to make her get help, one way or another. He wasn't the right person to fix what was wrong.

Placing one arm under her knees and the other around her back he stood up, lifting her up in his arms on the way. There was at least one thing he could do, and that was cleaning up the mess, even if it only was to wash away the dirtiness of the touch of that terrible man. He felt her head burying against his chest and her fingers weakly grabbing onto his clothes. They were being completely covered by the liquids she had covering her body, even his hands felt wet and dirty just by holding her against him. But that was the last of his worries this time, even if the urge of cleaning himself up was just buried deep inside his brain to pop up later on. It was even strange how the untidiness of her apartment hadn't caused anything but pure rage and anxious disgust.

He carried her to the bathroom, gently putting her down inside the tub. The fast palpitations of his heart were taking over the inside of his head, but he wasn't trembling anymore, even if the sharp sting of pain still remained piercing through his chest, threatening to cut his breathing off any second. But he knew that whatever he was feeling, she had it ten times worse. Her face looked calm, but the subtle movement of her body gave away the agitation that was boiling inside of her quietly, bearing with it all by herself. It was a painful sight.

His left hand reached doubtfully to the upper part of her back, timidly fumbling for the clasp of her bra.

"Is it okay to take this off?" he asked hesitantly, knowing too well that it was probably one of the worst things he could ask in a situation like that. But he tried not to give away any of that insecurity and uneasiness, keeping his voice as serious and calm as possible. Maybe a part of him wanted to be reliable. He received nothing but a quiet and almost unnoticeable nod as an answer, and he wasn't going to ask for anything else from her. When the bra slid down of her arms, he heard a quiet whimper escaping her lips.

Just for that one time and that one time only, he thought to himself, he embraced her protectively.

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 **Some of you may already know, but I've started my classes in college and I have little to no time to spend. I've been awfully busy and that's why I haven't updated this fic for so long. But I'll still try to use the little free time I have in updating it as frequently as possible, please bear with me!**

 **Hope you enjoyed this chapter!**

 **Until next time.**


	8. Chapter 8

The sound of multiple water drops hitting the tub's porcelain echoed in the small room as he held the telephone shower over her head. The stream pouring over her body made her long and black hair into a curtain that completely covered her face, as if it wanted to hide her shame. She trembled quietly, even though the water falling over her was warm enough, she shook like a leaf in the wind. Fragile, vulnerable and broken. She'd feared he might have attempted to scrub her skin, but he knew better, and she was glad. It was gross, gross to the point where those scars, those fluids felt like they were melting into her skin, absorbed by her body entirely and made into an unavoidable part of herself. The sensation of the warm water caressing her mistreated muscles felt refreshing enough, but she knew very well that there was nothing in this world that would take away the permanent feeling of dirtiness. It was burnt into her forever.

He moved the shower's handle from time to time, redirecting the running water for it to reach her back, her chest, her stomach and her legs. She was sitting there motionlessly, hands hiding under extended legs. It somehow felt absurd; the fact that she was being cleaned up by someone else, that he wore that stoic and calm expression even though that situation had nothing of normal, like he did that for a living. Time had stopped in the small room for only the water drops to be heard hitting against her body and against the bottom of the tub, while none of them moved, savoring the unlikelihood of spending a night like that. It was so pathetic and so utterly miserable that it felt almost natural for that to happen. She wondered why he was there, even when, for a second, it seemed fitting.

Every sound there was stopped abruptly when he cut off the water, replaced by the echo of his steps against the tiles as he searched the room. Him moving back and forth, the opening of doors and drawers and the noise of his hands rummaging into bathroom supplies. Ara started shivering, feeling the water drops quickly becoming colder on her skin. When he came back to her side, he slid the soft towel he had been looking for over her shoulders and held his hand out to help her out of the tub. His face was stern and his expression wore cold, impenetrable eyes, but the movements of his hands were delicate and gentle, almost graceful. He had been silent the whole time, diligently taking care of her without asking questions, without wasting time in unneeded words of comfort. It felt distant and detached, but it was honest and that was enough.

Beyond that point he decided to leave her alone and close the bathroom door from the side of the bedroom. It was chaos in there, and if there was something he could be certain of was that a messy room brought nothing but a messy head, too. And he was good at cleaning, he knew at least that. It was probably a small way of being helpful, but something he knew he could do well. Whatever the reason he could have for wanting to help. That was something still beyond his comprehension; why he insisted in meddling into other people's affairs when they had nothing to do with him. But there was something, something unsettling in the pit of his stomach urging him to act like wanting to fix a terrible mistake. At this point there was only one thing that was clear, and that was that whatever it was that made him act that way was deeper than just wanting to help a girl in need. It was something inside of him, threatening to resurge. He had his own personal reasons, and he was a selfish person after all, wasn't he?

Putting back up the knocked over furniture, picking up the clothes scattered across the room, reorganizing every little thing that were laying on the floor and placing them over shelves and other surfaces, throwing away the stained sheets, changing them for new ones, opening the window to let the air wash away the nauseating smell that flooded the room with sin and shame. There was still the chaos of the living room, but that could be done later. Ara walked back into the bedroom with the towel over her shoulders, positioned like a cape as she pulled its ends together at the front of her body to cover herself up. He kept cleaning, trying to make every little detail to meet his standards as she put on clean underwear from under the towel that blocked the view from her body. She got into what seemed to be her pajamas, a loose short and a baggy t-shirt that fell slightly over her shoulder, at the same time he decided that there was nothing else to be done in the room.

"You shouldn't sleep here tonight. You should go to a hotel," he told her as she sat down at the edge of the bed, using the towel to dry her hair up. For a moment she stayed silent, as if she hadn't heard him, with only the sound of the towel rubbing against her head filling in the space.

"I can't pay that," was her answer, the motion of her hands never stopping.

"Then go stay with a friend" he suggested, seeing as she became still for a single second before resuming what she was doing with her head slightly lowered. She didn't respond. So Ara didn't have any friends? Not that he could blame her; he wasn't exactly popular either. "Doesn't staying here remind you of…?"

He was cut off by how abruptly she stood up, the towel over her lowered head completely blocking the view of her face. He buried his nails on the palms of his hands uncomfortably as he closed them into fists. What was he still doing there again?

"Why are you doing this?" she questioned with a barely audible voice that sounded more like contained frustration than to the weak tone of sadness. It unnerved him a little bit, just how intense that voice sounded even though it was so soft, how the anger was palpable in it.

"Doing what?" he asked back, arching his eyebrows high as if to feign ignorance and aloofness. He knew what she was talking about.

"Coming here to be the hero. I am nothing to you, you don't know me, and you don't care about me. So why would you come like wanting to rescue me? Are you trying to prove something to yourself?" she said, the words coming bitterly through her tongue, and they slipped out so easily even when she didn't want to pronounce them, even when it felt so sickening.

He fell silent. A chord being struck inside of him as the discomfort and anguish of a realization came rushing in to get stuck into his dry throat. He felt suddenly unmasked, completely see-through for a brief moment as the pieces of a puzzle started to fall like a storm inside his head. He did his best to keep his face unreadable even though his insides felt so shaken by the accusation. But he couldn't blame her, could he now? She had her reasons to think the way she did, as much as he had his reasons to agree with her statement, even if he didn't like it one bit. Just what exactly had he gotten himself into? How deep into this loophole was he in?

"Yes," he heard himself saying as if from the outside; being the only honest answer he could muster, despite his own wish to conserve his pride intact. Because it was true. It never was about her or her suffering, it was about himself, all this time. She had been horribly abused, she was living hell on earth and yet he had managed to make it all about himself in his head. That was the kind of person he was, he knew that now. He now realized how much truth there was in the names they used to call him. Because all this time he had seen something in her that reminded him of himself; he saw his own face on her defeated gaze from time to time and that had been enough for him to want to save himself. Himself and no one else.

He had anticipated her face to be one of shock and anger; he had expected her to be furious and fierce, to rip him apart with her own hands. He knew that was only fair. But when the towel slip down to fall into her shoulders again the expression that was revealed was one of utter resignation, like she had been expecting that answer all along, completely unsurprised by the truth that had been spilled. And maybe that was what hurt the most; the fact that she was damaged enough to not need any kind of revenge being thrown upon his selfishness, the fact that she was looking at him with those eyes entirely devoid of surprise. It felt like she had seen the monster he was, and like she had never expected anything better out of him. But she was judging, the weight of a sentence falling heavily upon him just by those eyes that pierced into his soul like they could read him.

"I'm not your project. I don't exist just so you can feel better about yourself. I'm not a tool for whatever it is that you want to accomplish. I'm a human and I exist only for myself, my pain is only for myself to bear and not for anyone to take advantage of," she spoke with a voice that scared him, coming from the deepest part of a tortured soul, from an exhausted, used and re-used being. She was tired of being treated like an object; by those who took her body and her dignity but also by those who sought the complacence of solidarity, the ease of falling asleep with a clean conscience. She didn't want to be there for anyone's vindication.

Her words pierced into his chest mercilessly. There was nothing else to say; everything she claimed was true. He was just another monster using her for his own selfish satisfaction. He was no different that the man that had claimed her with his hands, if not worse, for he had taken advantage of her pain to ease his own. He had came to understand too late how much he needed her, even more than how she needed what he had been trying to sell. If only there was a right way to convince her that the dishonesty of it all hadn't been on purpose, that he just now understood his own motives through her words. But it didn't matter, at the end. Because even if he didn't know the reason up until that point, he was still guilty.

With a sharp pain stuck on his chest and the sound of a body flopping on the bed behind him, he closed the door of her apartment from the outside.

* * *

 **Guess who doesn't feel like studying and is neglecting her duties to bring you another update. Yes, me.**

 **Museology is so boriiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing.**

 **Anyway, I'm sorry if this isn't what you were expecting, but I think it's a point that needs to be acknowledged. Also feelings are really complicated?**

 **WELP**

 **Hope you enjoyed this chapter guys, and see you next time!**

 **Love you all~**


	9. Chapter 9

**Hey guys! I apologize for not updating in a long long time. As you know, I'm a college student and this semester hasn't finished yet, so I've been extremely busy with my studies. Luckily, it's coming to an end and the workload has been slightly smaller this week, so I managed to take some time to write a new chapter. I didn't forget about the story!**

 **Anyway, enjoy!**

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The white walls of the small apartment were tinted with a reddish shade, the intense light of the falling sun bathing the room suffocatingly through ripped curtains. She could see the small dots of dust dancing in front of her, glowing with the last particles of daytime light; everything was golden. With her back against the wall Ara stared at her extended legs, a hole piercing in her chest. The heavy tranquility of the room weighted down on her so oppressively she had to remind herself how to breathe. The tips of her fingers traced the colorful flowers of her skin that had bloomed overnight, traces of light purple and yellow drawing shapes that ached under the touch, and with her fingernails she drew petals that vanished on the whiteness of her skin over and over. She was a garden aching to writhe, but her flora came back every time.

The sharp edges of broken glass scattered all over the living room floor shone with a golden glow. It was the sun making the chaos look like pearls. There was loud knocking on the door and she stood up slowly, allowing herself a few seconds to close her eyes and breathe. With bare feet she moved calmly towards the front door, sunk in an emptiness that stripped her of any agitation. Then there was that familiar grin and rough hands all over her skin, wandering through her thighs and back, crushing the early blooms. She let herself go this time, her mind going back to the comforting darkness of her closed eyelids.

He didn't like how silent she was, so he asked her to moan, he yelled her to wail and weep, pressing her buttons with his fingertips. Parting her lips, she couldn't manage to emit a single sound as if something had been broken inside of her. She could almost hear the shattered pieces echoing inside of her as her body moved up and down with the rough fabric of the sofa burning on her back, the ceiling above her seemed to shake as she stared and for a second she thought it was going to crumble over them. Maybe if he was crushed under its weight that would be okay, and she almost smiled at the thought.

He got tired of her, eventually, as it always happened. If there was any consolation it was that it always came to an end at some point, even if it just meant that it would have to be replayed. Ara stared at his back while he put on his clothes again, watching how the muscles on his body were drawn and erased with his movements, the glow of the crystals forming small triangles on his skin with the white light that filtered through the windows.

Without taking her eyes off that broad back she let her fingers reach for the scattered pieces on the floor, absentmindedly tracing the edges. She thought that those triangles painted on his skin suited him perfectly; she thought that maybe he should wear more shapes like those on his body, the same way the red traces of his fingernails were carved on hers. She stood up quietly, the cutting edge of a piece of glass pressing sharply against her palms as she held it tightly between them. He turned around to face her and for a brief moment she saw his expression distorting with realization and confusion, when his blood started to run down through the crystal from the hole that had been pierced on his chest. She pushed it deeper on his flesh; deeper, the way he liked it.

Was that what he used to see? When he pierced through her body and pushed, when she was left out of breath and writhing, squirming with pain and gasping for the air that rushed out of her lungs. Was that how she looked? Those times he made her stumble and fall to the ground, screaming and crying, bleeding. Was the way she was looking at him the moment his life visibly escaped his body the same as he did? Did he see her face before his last breath and found himself on her eyes?

The strength that had been holding her legs disappeared and she fell on her knees, stripped of all the determination she had left on her body. She found herself shaking, her limbs trembling uncontrollably as the red liquid dripped from her fingers. Looking at the blood that covered his motionless chest she drew her fingers closer, and with the tips opened canals that discovered the skin underneath.

She drew red roses in full bloom.

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 **Whew.**

 **I hope you liked it! I'll try to update again soon, though there are still a couple of weeks left until this semester closes, and by then I'll have plenty of time to spend writting! Hope you can understand.**

 **Don't forget to review if you liked it!**

 **Until next time.**


	10. Chapter 10

**Guess who finished all of her assignments for the semester and is officially free from all obligation? Me!**

 **So that means it's updating time.**

 **Enjoy!**

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The loud knocking on his door violently took him away from his deep slumber; they were frantic, insistent. When Add had finally gotten away from all the commotion and drama that had been taking place the last few weeks, with no more discussions and yelling on the hallway, no more strange messages, no more chaos coming from the apartment next door, he had to start his day like that again. The digital clock on his nightstand indicated that it was near four in the morning with its glowing numbers; he didn't suppress the irritated groan that escaped his throat. But no matter how urgent the persistent knocking made the matter seem, he took his sweet time to answer. Nothing was going to rush his way through the morning routine, even if the sun hadn't come up just yet. He knew very well that he wouldn't be able to go back to sleep afterwards.

Still half asleep he made his way through the immaculate living room, occasionally stomping into the furniture because his eyes refused to stay open. The curtains on the large window were open, so the faint glow of a barely standing night filtered through the glass, bathing the room with a hypnotizing atmosphere of stillness, like the entire world was asleep. The air had that coldness of the early morning that crawled inside your skin and got into your bones. But the closer he got to the door, the more that magic sleepiness of the dying night was violated. It wasn't just knocking anymore; it was whimpering and shouting that came from the other side. He unlocked the door to open it just enough to see his neighbor, Ara's face completely red and covered with trails of tears, distorted by a violent despair.

She was shouting words he couldn't really understand, her words running onto and suppressing each other as they got mixed out with the sobbing and the choking. His first reaction was to grab onto her shoulders with more strength than he should have and shake her out of that craziness. The incomprehensible yelling was driving him insane and it was way too early to be dealing with that kind of thing, so he yelled at her to shut up and calm down. She stopped shouting, but the weird mumbling and sobbing went on as she pulled at his shirt and tried to drag him out of his apartment. He resisted at first, but the persistence with which she kept pulling convinced him that there was going to be no end to this madness unless he complied with whatever it was she was asking him to do, that he still couldn't quite decipher.

So he followed Ara to her apartment, with her slender fingers still grasping onto his clothing, like he was going to get lost on the three steps trip. He just went with it without saying anything, still thinking about going back to sleep, or at least trying to. But what he saw as soon as they crossed the doorway left him frozen in place. She stood next to him, covering her face with both hands; not trying to talk anymore, she just let herself cry. The room was covered in a dense darkness with only the edges of broken glass shining slightly under the moonlight that filtered through the spaces left by the sloppily closed curtains. But he could still see it, that silhouette vaguely drawn on the floor, by the couch. Looking tentatively for a switch on the wall next to him he managed to turn on the light, and it was even worse than he had first imagined.

He recognized the man lying breathless, eyes wide open on the ground; he recognized that the reddish stain all over his chest was probably blood. It just took him a second to realize, but somehow he refused to believe it completely. He saw the piece of broken glass sticking out of the wound on his chest; he saw Ara's body covered in small sprinkles of blood. He pulled the pieces together again. His eyes fixated on her face, waiting for the moment in which she would return his consternated and distraught gaze, hoping that scanning her eyes would help him get a better grasp of the situation at hand, assuming that the fact that she went looking for him to his apartment meant he was compelled to do something.

Their eyes met, and he saw that those reddened and swollen eyes, those deer-like, sparkling eyes weren't those of a murderer. If anything, he could only see a victim, a pained girl, a broken creature driven to its limit. He saw the multiple bruises and scratches painting her pale skin with ugly colors and it seemed to him that the reddish stains on the man's body weren't as disturbing as those cruel reminders of sustained abuse. A thousand thoughts crossed his mind in a second, calculating and thinking as fast as he could.

She wasn't going to approach the cops, he knew that much, and he wasn't going to tell on her either if she had never wanted him to call them when the situation hadn't escalated that much. He thought about what it would do to her mental state to be interrogated and questioned about everything, forced to reminiscence everything she had went through and her story put through suspicion. He thought about the fact that the apartment they were standing in was owned by the dead man on the floor, he thought about what would happen to her now that he was dead. He could stay away, away from all of this chaos and misery; he had tried to stay away multiple times and yet, multiple were the times in which she had went to him and only him for help. He had been the only one she had turned to so it wasn't hard to guess she didn't have anyone else to rely on if it had been okay to go to a complete stranger from the beginning. Even now, that she had killed the man and committed a crime, now that there was a bloody scene in the middle of her living room, she went towards him.

Every time he tried to get out of the swirl of her misery, he had been pulled back in by her own hand. And now it was time to make a choice, one that he had been putting off for weeks, even knowing that it was going to come to this at some point.

He took her hand and pulled her out of the apartment as firmly as he could, closing the door shut as soon as it had been left behind them. She waited for him on his living room while he disappeared inside his bedroom, the noise of drawers being pulled open, things being thrown out and zippers closing. Accommodating the strap of his bag on his shoulder as he walked he handed one of his jackets to her and held her hand again, without giving her time to even put it on before dragging her out of his apartment and closing that door as well.

Leading Ara down the hallway, they disappeared on the way downstairs.

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 **Uh oh.**


	11. Chapter 11

What was he thinking? Ara looked at the man sitting next to her on the bus with an unsettling sensation pricking on her chest, her heart still pounding furiously. It had all been so sudden she didn't stop to think about what they were doing, and she could bet it was the same for him. She had been the one to come to him for help in the first place. The landscape out of the window was still an urban one from the city she knew so well, the people walking on the streets looked so close she was afraid, for a moment, they would notice the guilt on her face if they were to look up. Familiar shops and buildings they passed by, the bus was going to come near her faculty some time soon, she guessed. It was a cloudy day and faint sun rays managed to go through the dense clouds in weak threads, if only to shed some light over the gloomy city without any warmth. She fixed the white, oversized jacket that was falling over one of her shoulders, feeling up the unfamiliar texture. Somehow, it all felt so unreal to her.

-What are you thinking? Leaving the building like that- she spoke up with a dull voice. The commotion from just a few minutes ago had melted inside of her as if nothing unusual had happened. And it was just that it felt exactly like that, the scene from before was like a story she could have read on a novel, like it didn't happen to her. Their eyes met when he turned his head to look down at her with a grimace twisting his mouth just slightly. A long minute of silence passed, his eyes scanning her, before he decided to answer.

-Did you ever report the abuse to the police?- he asked, and she shook her head- Does anyone besides me and you know about what has been happening?- he pressed, she moved her head 'no' again, to which he sighed- Then what do you think is going to happen when someone discovers the body? That man must have family and friends who notice his disappearance, and the apartment IS his property, it's registered under his name.

She bit down her lower lip, letting his words sink in. Of course it wasn't going to look good for her, they might not even believe her. Then again, the moment she buried that piece of glass on his chest, they weren't grappling, were they? She waited, waited until he was unaware and defenseless. Was it really justified to take someone else's life? Was it justified to kill a man? She could have reported it, she could have escaped sooner. If she had said something, he could be imprisoned now, but she chose to make herself a murderer. Maybe, the night Add had came to aid her, she should have left him call the police, or an ambulance, whoever could have taken care of the situation for her. None of that mattered now, it was too late.

But what about Add? What did HE have to gain from all this? If anything, he could be losing everything, because of her. She had dragged him into this mess over and over again until it was too late for him to draw back, she had implicated him in a murder of which she was the only responsible. Now that the guards, the building cameras had registered him leaving with her and once they found the dead body on her apartment, was he going to be able to go back? Was he going to be suspicious too? He knew about the murder, and he hadn't said anything to the police, that was reason enough to have him be an accomplice. If only she had kept her mouth shut and left the apartment alone.

Through the bus radio the news broadcasting station started to sound, they talked about a murder, about a body being found in the city. Cold sweat ran down her back and she flinched. So soon? Was that possible? Had they been found already? She felt a heavy hand on her shoulder and she turned to see Add's eyes fixating on her sternly.

-It's probably unrelated. This sort of thing happens every day in big cities and it's unlikely that someone has found him this soon- he spoke to her with a secure voice and she let herself relax. He was right, of course it was just a coincidence. Somehow, he had made himself some sort of voice of wisdom, and she was willing to believe anything he said if only to keep her sanity.

She sank on her sit and wrapped the jacket more tightly around her body, looking outside the window. They were getting into the less populated parts of the city, a residence area without any big buildings or commercial departments. The subtle movement of the bus cooed her into a dream sensation that filled her stomach. She felt like barely touching her sit, the jacket's fabric softly tickling her skin and the unfamiliar scent of that piece of clothing taking away her sense of reality. Looking towards Add, his presence felt so unreal, like both of them sitting next to each other on a bus, going nowhere was so unlikely to happen, so unfitting that his face looked almost dream-like. A warm sensation engulfed her heart when she thought how much he looked like a tower, so secure and stern, like he had everything under control. Would it be selfish to let him watch over her for a while?

As they sat in silence, the landscape outside of the bus started to change slowly with the bright colors over a grayish canvas of the city being left behind. Soon the buildings and houses became a rare sight, and only once in a while a few small convenience stores could be spotted near the road and segregated groups of houses in the distance, all of them standing over faraway hills drawn over the brownish dirt of the desolated terrain by the freeway. All of the electric connections that had been made subterranean in the heart of the city appeared now along the street as electricity poles, shadowing against the clouds and rising sun. Everything they were seeing now was fairly rudimentary and countryside-like, indicating they were getting to the outsides of the city.

Add busied himself by reading a book, while Ara was absentmindedly staring at the progression of the scenery outside the bus, half sunken on her sit. As they got farther and farther from the city they lived in she felt like leaving behind a part of herself, being washed away along with the urban colors. Without thinking, her hands went through the bruises on her legs under the black dress. She had sloppily put on the first thing she found before going to look for Add, and it probably hadn't been the best choice for an attire to run away into nothingness with. The purple circles hurt under the pressing of her fingertips, but it felt like an anaesthetized pain. Even so, it was a reminder that her scars were still travelling with her.

She felt sedated, as if whatever was happening outside the limits of her own existence was a faraway scene, and soon the tiredness of the sleepless night started to take over her as the world outside her window also became quieter. She wrapped the jacket tighter around her body, covering the small circles of dry blood that were adhered to her skin and softly leaned against the arm of the man next to her, closing her eyes. Nothing mattered.

As the bus got engulfed by the darkness of a tunnel and its dim, yellowish lights, he turned another page of the book.

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 **Hope you enjoyed.**

 **Don't forget to leave a comment if you'd like~**

 **Until next time.**


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